


Come Around Here

by evaunit0



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hanging Out, Homecoming, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Studying, football captain shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaunit0/pseuds/evaunit0
Summary: Keith brings home a friend for the first time - neither he or Krolia are quite sure how this is supposed to go.





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [@ainiyuku](http://ainiyuku.tumblr.com/) <3<3<3

The punch itself was a reflex, although it may not have seemed that way from how precisely he hit his target.

He heard the shout from somewhere in the distance, most likely their manager, Matt. “ _Fuck_ – the new kid just gave Iverson a black eye!”

Hands were hooked around his arms in an instant, dragging him off to the sidelines while someone came up to Iverson with a medical kit.

Iverson's eye was swollen shut through the rest of practice – an ice poultice pressed against half his face – as Keith sat in the bleachers. He should be off running laps with the rest of the team, but Iverson told him he didn't deserve to come on his field, and called the school board to come down and decide what to do with him.

So much for starting out this year on a good foot. He was sure this would be all over the school tomorrow – and it’s not like he was capable of doing damage control.

Things were already bad enough when the news got out he made the varsity team – some people had started a rumor saying it was all the new captain’s work.

_Shiro likes that kid._

_Iverson shouldn’t have made him captain._

_That Keith guy is barely taller than my girlfriend._

Keith wanted to kick their asses, but he guessed Iverson got the end of that stick.

Shiro was nowhere to be seen when it went down – Keith almost wished for him to be there, just to have someone to explain things to when the board arrived.

Booting him off the team was by far the cleanest solution, and the easiest to carry out. After all, practice had just begun – with them being only two weeks into the new school year, there were plenty of replacements who could fill his position.

It was all very orderly until the principal got his mother on the phone – she started barking something they felt wasn't appropriate for speaker-phone, and left the field - so Keith watched the rest of the team start running passing drills, headed by Shiro, who had appeared out of thin air.

His real name was Takashi Shirogane, but _Shiro_  had been stitched across the back of his letterman jacket and jersey, and was what he preferred to be called.  
As Keith found him on the field, Shiro looked up from the neat zig-zagging lines of teammates, meeting Keith's eye.

 _You're a natural,_  Shiro had told him at tryouts. He had a black bandana wrapped around his forehead, hair slick with sweat. _I'm the captain this year, and I could really use someone like you on this team._

Keith hated that statement alone practically made him sign the team roster.

 _Yeah, well Shiro was out of luck._ Once they had hung up the phone with his mother, the adults informed Keith he should collect his items and head home – Iverson wasn't likely to press charges, since he could be charged as an instigator, but Keith had better shape up, or else-

He got the gist of whatever script they were following, and tuned them out.

Really, he was thankful he got off without a suspension – he didn't know how his parents would handle that notice not even a month into his first semester in Nevada. This school was supposed to be better than the others – they had started off in Texas, from there, to New Mexico, Arizona - even Los Angeles for two months, all because Keith's parents had jobs that required movement.

Good thing for Keith, he wasn't one to get too attached to something.

So he went into the locker room with his cleats in hand, first going to wash his face – wetting a cold washcloth under the sink faucet – and untying the small knot of hair at the base of his neck.

The clock above the door told him he had half an hour left of practice before the team came back in here to change out of their practice gear, so he went ahead and unlocked his locker, thankful he wouldn’t have to come back here ever again.

The sound of footsteps startled him, and he looked behind the room's partition to see Shiro coming around it, eyebrows furrowed. Once he saw Keith, he smiled lightly. "Oh, there you are. I thought you might have already left."

He was sweating, his cheeks highlighted with red exhaustion.

Keith was strangely okay with talking to Shiro. It felt natural.

"No, I'm just getting all my stuff now."

Shiro nodded, and his frown returned too quickly. "I tried speaking to the principal – and Iverson, but he's pretty, uh, upset right now – I told him Iverson was making jokes at your expense, and that I was there, you didn't do anything wrong-"

"Shiro, you didn't have to do that." Keith felt his neck start to burn, and not from the late summer sun. He wrapped his still-wet towel around the back of his head, hoping to hide his shame. "I messed up. I did."

Shiro looked at a loss of words, lips parted, staring at Keith with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," was what he went with.

"It's not your fault."

"You belong on the team."

Keith packed the rest of his uniform pieces up, thankful it was just his old equipment from past schools, and he hadn’t committed to buying new gear yet. He opened the locker too wide to retrieve his normal clothes, and his backpack spilled over – scattering his books all over the yellowing linoleum floor.

At the sound of them falling, Shiro immediately reached over the bench between the lockers, kneeling on the floor to pick them up. Keith couldn't help but notice his hands were wider than his own upper arm as he started stacking his books for him, turning them gently over onto their backs to fit in his bag.

The last one he flipped over with a timid smile.

\-----

"Pre-cal?" Shiro's voice was edging on flirtation, he could hear it – but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Keith bit his lip, but shrugged it off. "Yeah."

"Montgomery driving you crazy yet?"

Keith laughed for half a second, and Shiro immediately memorized the sound. "Oh, yeah."

They both stood, Shiro zipping up Keith's backpack before handing it over to him.

Keith shouldered both bags, lips pursed. Shiro needed to get back outside – he claimed he needed to fix a contact, and the team was running drills he had instructed while he was gone. They'd be done soon, and he doubted Matt could hold them off as a measly team manager.

The thought this was the last chance to talk to Keith spurred him on.

_Just ask for his number, it’s not a big deal. You can ask him if he wants to hang out, or come to one of your games later._

Even after reasoning it out with himself, his foot still tapped nervously several times before he could control it, swallowing. "So I, uh. I could help you out, you know? If you need it. With pre-cal, I mean."

Keith looked up at him before slowly opening his mouth, trying to speak. "I- If you want to help me with the packet we got today, that'd be, uh, cool. I haven't seen some of that stuff before."

Shiro let out a low breath, and couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping – pure relief. "Great. That’s great. Are you free tonight?"

Keith looked stunned.

"I can drive us to your house, if you want." Shiro quickly fumbled, gesturing to Keith's ID. "I'll make it nicer trip than the bus, I promise." Keith paused for another second, and Shiro tried again. "I'll let you pick the music, promise."

"Okay," Keith said, smiling softly. "I'll wait for you outside the practice field."

Shiro tried not to let his happiness show, but he could tell from Keith quickly glancing away it was evident all over his face.

He couldn't will the big grin away as Keith got ready to leave, so he stretched his arms up, feigning a sore muscle to smile at the ceiling. "I'll meet you there. See you later, Keith."

He hadn't finished a practice feeling that high in the past four years.

\-----

After practice, Shiro took the quickest shower of his life, dashing to meet Keith. His hair was still damp – he hadn’t bothered to dry it – and dripped onto his shoulders, giving him goosebumps.

He didn’t need any extra nerves right now.

From the minute he had introduced himself to Keith, he knew he wasn’t like the rest of his team, or even his friends, for that matter. He was quiet, sparse with words, but had undeniable talent. He underrated himself constantly.

In other words, Shiro couldn’t help but developing a crush within the first hour of their acquaintance, and it stuck.

While they walked to the senior parking lot together, a couple students waved at Shiro, and he could feel Keith watching him put on a complimentary smile, waving twice.

\-----

The couple of girls waving at Shiro from across the lot made him irrationally clench his fist.

Of course he was popular. Keith didn’t really see that in Shiro – not from how calmly he speaks, how open his eyes are.

_Fuck._

While Keith’s brain was sabotaging his thoughts, they had arrived at Shiro’s car, and he popped open the trunk, lifting Keith's bags off his shoulders with his own, easily packing all four of them into the car at once.

Quickly turning around to the passenger’s side, Keith shook his head. He shouldn’t stare at Shiro like that – it wasn’t like him.

"It's unlocked."

Once they were both in, Shiro was smiling again, turning on the engine, and warmly passing the aux cord over to Keith.

He numbly held it between his fingers before looking up at Shiro.

Shiro laughed, showing teeth, and Keith felt himself swallow. "Hey, I promised I'd let you choose the music, remember?"

Keith recovered after a beat. "It's a short drive. I usually only get two songs in on the bus."

"Then choose something you really like."

"I like Bowie."

Shiro laughed again, and Keith stared at his profile, watching him back out of his spot. "That suits you."

So Keith put on  _Starman_ while Shiro pull out of the lot. Keith began giving him instructions once they got to the road. "Take a left here. Then left again at the next light." There was a comfortable silence as they listened to the song, before Keith tried initiating conversation for once. "What do you listen to?"

"I mean, if we're going old school, I like Queen."

Keith snorted. “Seriously?”

Shiro looked stupidly happy at Keith’s amusement, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “I know, shut up.”

So Keith put on _Killer Queen_ , mostly just to hear Shiro start to sing, voice hitting exaggerated notes loudly off-key. His hair was almost dried now – it was a spiky mess that covered his forehead, and Keith itched to push it out of his eyes.

Instead, he focused on the road. “This next one is my street,” Keith waited until he turned – one-handed – to finish his instructions. “The fifth house on the right. Here.”  
Keith glanced in the rearview mirror – his mom’s car wasn’t home, and she usually was off work by now.

“Is everything alright?”

Keith nodded slowly. “Yeah, sorry. My mom is usually parked out front.”

“I’m not intruding, am I?” Shiro sounded genuinely concerned, and Keith pitied him. Shiro didn’t really know what he was getting into hanging out with him – the new kid who didn’t have any friends, and wasn’t interested in making any.

Except Shiro was at his house, and Keith had to do _something_ with him.

“No, it’s cool.” Keith got out of the car, hoping Shiro would follow. Sure enough, after a slight hesitation, Shiro turned off the car, and retrieved their backpacks from the trunk, insisting on carrying Keith’s with a small _I got it, stop._

Keith half-heartedly grumbled about it to the door, hoping the shade under their roof would hide his blush.

\-----

At his door, Shiro turned around for Keith to dig his keys out of his backpack, bending his knees so Keith didn’t have to stand on his tiptoes. He thought he heard a curse interjected between the words _too tall_ , but he couldn’t be certain.

He was smiling at the sky when Keith spoke behind him.

"We, uh, move around a lot, so I haven't really had someone over before."

Shiro shook his head, turning around. "Don't worry about it. Thanks for having me over."

Keith paused for a minute, lip twitching, but chose to say nothing.

Shiro waited for him to open the door – noticing his empty keyring, save a purple charm. He'd have to ask about it.

"Mom?" Keith called, pushing open the door, slinging his jacket over one shoulder as he corralled Shiro into the house. "Mom?" He drifted into the next room, hands skimming the freshly painted walls. Shiro stayed planted by the door, trying to be still as possible. Keith came back, shrugging. "I guess she isn't home yet."

"Oh, okay."

Keith seemed unsure of what to do, a silence beginning to settle. Shiro was about to offer they go get food and come back in an hour, but Keith cleared his throat.  
"We can go hang out in my room, if you want."

"That's cool."

Shiro's dutifully followed him through the kitchen and living room – it seemed most of their boxes were gone, but some light fixtures needed to be installed. There was even plastic over a couple of bar stools, still unused.

Keith's room was at the end of a hallway, and Shiro had to slide off their backpacks to fit in the narrow door behind Keith.

“Sorry, it’s kinda small.”

As soon as he opened the door, Shiro registered that the room smelled like Keith – to stop his heart-rate from spiking too much, he tried to speak. "So can I put our stuff anywhere, or-?"

Keith had already sloughed his jacket off in a corner, and was busily clearing off his desk. The room itself was mostly bare, and didn’t seem at all unkempt.

"Uh, sorry it's a mess – I'm not usually messy, I swear.” Keith seemed to process Shiro’s question a second later, and shook his head. “You can put everything down – sorry, I-”

Shiro put a hand on his shoulder, forcing Keith to stop scrambling. "Keith, it's fine. You're fine. You don’t need to apologize, I promise." He set his bag beside Keith's, and started to take off his letterman jacket, tossing it in the corner over his backpack.

He turned around too soon, and Keith quickly looked away, pulling out his pre-cal book from a desk drawer.

_Was Keith watching him?_

Keith let the book land on his bed, and slipped off his shoes before climbing onto it, legs spread off the edge. “Is this okay?”

Shiro swallowed, before reaching down to untie his own shoes. “Yeah. I can get your packet from your bag, if you want.”

“Oh yeah, thanks. You can just bring the binder over.”

Shiro pulled out the black binder labeled Pre-Cal in Keith’s penmanship – it was scrawny, the letters tilted a little too far, too thin.

Shiro almost wanted to slap himself for staring at it.

_Too far, Shirogane._

He placed himself on the bed, lowering himself on his stomach, spreading out the papers beside Keith’s textbook. The last thing he needed was for Keith to scoot closer when he laid down next to him, but he did, accidentally knocking their legs together.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Keith cracked open his book, matching the chapter to his worksheet, before looking over at Shiro, elbows hanging off the edge of the bed. Keith’s eyebrows furrowed.  
“Do need want a pillow?”

Shiro almost declined by instinct, but the idea of Keith offering his pillow to him set his guts on fire. “Uh, yeah, actually. That’d be nice.”

Keith passed him the pillow, only to offer a yell when Shiro smacked him in the face with it, laughing. Keith pushed back his ruffled hair. “Hey!”

Shiro was still laughing, rolling onto his side. “You _handed_ me that one!”

Keith made a grab for the pillow, but Shiro tightened it against his chest, lightly kicking out his legs when Keith tried to crawl closer.

His stomach would have hurt from laughing if it wasn’t overly warm at the sight of Keith, who had resigned to cross his arms and wait for Shiro to sober up.

Shiro sat up, nudging his arms. “Hey, c’mon.” He held out the pillow as a peace offering. “I’ll give you one free shot.”

Keith lightly smacked his chest, rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

Shiro’s chest was stuttering from where Keith’s hand had touched him, and he laid down with the pillow tucked under his chin, hoping to hide his heartbeat.

“We can start with line slopes, if you want.”

\-----

Krolia always carried a knife with her as a precaution. Maybe some would perceive that as threatening, but she saw it as an active defense.

The knife couldn’t help with the car outside of her house.

It was indisputably parked in front of _their_ lawn; Krolia briefly debated slashing the tires, but decided to peer in the window first, instead.

Nothing odd – it was a clean interior, save some empty water bottles in the cup holders – except a student lanyard laying on the passenger floor.

It was Keith’s.

Krolia didn’t remember keying into the house, nor discarding her things, but she ended up pacing down the hall leading to Keith’s room within the blink of an eye.  
The door was already propped open, so she shouldered through, leading with her voice. "Keith, why is there a car outside?"

The answer was evident as soon as she entered, taking in the scene – Keith was stretched out on his bed beside someone, both sharing a book between them.

The sight made Krolia's nerves jump.

_Since when did Keith have a friend?_

Keith scrambled to sit up, pushing up off his stomach with his arms. "Mom-"

But the other boy was already on his feet, swinging off the bed in seconds to plant himself in front of Krolia. He was an inch or so taller than her, and she immediately looked over his shoulder at Keith, who was red-faced.

Keith’s voice was quiet, his throat dry. "Mom, this is Shiro."

 _Shiro_ reached out his hand, cheeks flushed. "Hello."

Krolia took him in for a moment – he looked like he could bench-press four Keiths at once. Her mouth flickered, and Shiro almost looked worried before she took his hand gently, shaking it twice.

"I'm Keith's mom. Nice to meet you, Shiro." She turned, looking at Keith again, who was trying to do anything but watch the interaction. "Keith, can I see you for a minute?"

He didn’t respond, but she heard him whisper to Shiro, _–be back, sorry,_ as he followed her out into the hall.

Krolia nodded towards the door, and Keith closed it behind them as they walked into the kitchen. As soon as they were out of range, Keith practically exploded.

“He’s just a friend from school, mom. I’ve known him since the first week.”

Krolia blinked. “How come you didn’t tell me about him?”

Keith didn’t look so much exasperated as confused himself. “I don’t know – I didn’t think we were friends, really. We just talked, sometimes.”

They were quiet for a moment. Krolia tried to give them each time to calm down – Keith’s father always told her they had the same temper. “Why did you invite him over?”

"He said he'd help me out with pre-cal, since he took it last year. He’s really nice.” Keith’s voice turned into a hush Krolia hadn't heard from him since he played with toys. "He's really smart, mom."

"I'm sure he is." She could feel herself frowning.

Keith crossed his arms, a pose her own body itched to mirror. She leaned against the wall instead, listening. "He's just a good friend. He even tried to defend me when I got kicked off the team today.”

Krolia looked up. "Is he on the team?"

Keith's jaw shifted. "Shiro's the captain."

There was another, longer pause.

"I thought you were doing fine in pre-cal, was all."

She turned away before she could see the blush set into Keith's face, idly moving plates into the sink. She didn't mean to embarrass him too much, and let them each breathe for a minute.

“We’ll have to talk about what happened today when your father gets home.”

“Can I go back to my room now?”

“Yes,” Krolia bit her lip as she heard Keith start to walk away. “But keep the door open, Keith.”

She didn’t hear a response, but after a few minutes, she looked down the hall and sure enough, the door was open. She could hear their muffled voices drifting into the hall – Shiro’s laugh loud and uncontrolled, probably at something Keith had said.

The thought almost paralyzed her.

She sighed, sitting down on the couch’s armrest.

This would take some time.

\-----

When Keith pushed open his door, Shiro practically jumped him.

"Did I do something wrong?" His gray eyes were almost glassy, and Keith felt bad he had left him alone so abruptly. "I'm sorry if I got you in trouble, I probably shouldn't have asked you to come over today; my grandpa would be okay with you coming over if that’s better-”

"Shiro, it's okay. You're okay." Keith stopped him by reaching an arm up onto his shoulder. “She’ll probably ask you to stay for dinner.”

Shiro seemed pulled by Keith’s presence – he followed him over to the bed, watching Keith crawl back onto his stomach.

He was still nervous – Shiro stayed sitting on the edge of the mattress, the book in his lap – so Keith scooted up to have his head beside his thigh, looking up at him to speak. "Having you over is kinda new for both of us, and I'm sure when my dad comes home, this might happen again." His tone was soft. "She thinks you're a good person; I know her."

Shiro felt himself flush, worried Keith might feel the bed start shaking. His voice was strained, but he managed a small smile. "I'm glad."

They were quiet for a moment before Shiro coughed, and Keith looked up at him, wide-eyed and smiling.

"So if that’s your mom, what's your dad like?”

Keith shoved Shiro’s side, knocking him onto his back. It took Shiro a moment to catch his breath for laughter – Keith was a lot stronger than he looked.

“I see where you get your personality from –”

“Shut up.”

Keith held Shiro’s wrists above his head, trying to work around Shiro’s knees, which he was using as shields. They both struggled for a few minutes, breathing hard, and cheeks hurting from smiling. As Keith tried to force one of his knees down, Shiro’s other leg accidentally stretched out too far, pushing Keith’s binder of the end of the bed.

Suddenly, they both heard Krolia’s voice resonating from down the hall. “Are you two studying?”

They grinned at each other, Keith fighting back laughter as Shiro blew his bangs out of his face.

Shiro managed a “ _Yes ma’am,_ ” right as Keith called “ _Yes, mom._ ”

Keith shoved off of Shiro – it only took them a few minutes to pick all the papers off the ground, and only a several minutes after beginning Keith’s problem set for Shiro to realize Keith didn’t need help with math in the first place.

He watched Keith deftly complete a problem after one explanation – his handwriting still slanted and scrawny. “Is that right?”

Shiro was supposed to be cross-checking Keith’s answers by doing the problems himself – he had fallen behind watching Keith work it out.

Keith looked over at his silence, glancing down at the empty space on his notebook. Shiro blushed.

“I think I got distracted, sorry.”

“It’s okay – I can just check the answers in the back.” Keith stopped for a moment, looking up at Shiro. “You didn’t have to help me out – thank you.”

Shiro’s throat was tight. “I wanted to.”

“It’s like you see the good in me,” Keith spoke quickly, swallowing before setting his binder down beside him. He was blushing again, but for the first time, wasn’t trying to hide it. “I haven’t had someone try this much with me.”

Shiro’s forced his voice down – hoping to avoid it breaking. “I think you’re really special, Keith.”

Keith turned, reaching out his arms to fold Shiro into them – the hug itself was cramped, too much of Shiro’s legs almost put Keith into his lap – but Shiro lowered his head anyway, resting it on Keith’s shoulders.

“Thank you.”

The sound of a door opening made Keith detangle himself, standing. The new light in his eyes suited him. “That’s probably my dad. Do you want to meet him?”

Shiro felt himself get up, nodding, and following Keith out of the room, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was doing this whole thing backwards: meeting the parents before asking Keith out on a single date.

But when Krolia tried smiling at him from the kitchen, offering a small wave, he figured this was how it was done with Keith.

And that it’d be worth it.


	2. Homecoming (pt. 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so this extremely basic highschool au with a shiro/keith's family subplot has basically consumed my life so you're all going to suffer with me

“So why’d they cancel practice?”

“They need to mow the field before homecoming. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”

Keith frowned. “It’s not going to rain during your game, is it?”

Shiro laughed. “No, you won’t melt.”

He snorted again at Keith’s obvious eye roll, purposefully bumping his practice bag against the back of his leg.

The two-day countdown before their homecoming game this Friday (followed by the dance on Saturday) had half the school worked into a frenzy of last-minute arrangements.

Shiro had been pestered repeatedly by Matt to get a date – _It’s senior year, man_ – but he’d been able to brush it off, largely thanks to Lotor and Allura’s rise in school-wide gossip. Rumor had it, they practically held the definite title of homecoming King and Queen this year. This being the only news to circulate their friend group, they had overlooked the fact that _Matt_ had gotten a date before Shiro.

Another easily overlooked fact was that Keith had recently been adopted into their circle, despite being the only junior in the crowd.

“I like him,” Allura commented at lunch. Keith had hung out with them on the weekends a couple times, and Shiro mentioned them carpooling to the game. “He’s definitely your type.”

Shiro cut her a look. They had been over this. “It’s not like that.”

She and Lotor exchanged a glance, while Matt hid a smile by taking a bite of his fries.

“Of course not,” Lotor reached for his drink. “It’s just that you two have become inseparable after a month of knowing each other, and you’re _carpooling_ together to homecoming.”

“Alone,” Matt added.

Lotor nodded. “As friends.”

“Just the game,” Shiro said, as if that were to make things appear more casual. “Keith’s not even sure he wants to go to the dance.”

“Maybe you should _ask_ him.” Allura’s voice was light, but Matt nodded in full agreement.

“Dude, now’s the perfect time to pop the question.”

As far as Shiro was concerned, never would be the appropriate time to ask Keith out. They had exchanged phone numbers that first night, and hadn’t stopped sending _Good morning_ and _Good night_ texts ever since. Shiro convinced Keith to take his first selfie with him, and had saved it as his background. Keith made a playlist for him of songs they couldn’t get to during their car rides, which he listened to every day, and the idea of asking him out made his heart feel cornered.

Even with Shiro studying after school three nights a week at Keith’s house, he wasn’t ready to ask the question.

He had met Keith’s _parents_ and he couldn’t do it.

To be fair, Shiro had always been told he was good with adults – most of the time, they respected him, and he was polite – but he’d never had to truly _worry_ if someone would like him before.

Thankfully, Krolia seemed to approve of Shiro – she was reserved in most of her affections, but had her own small ways of expressing emotion. Whether it was a smile peeking out the corner of her mouth, or a sudden burst of laughter at something Shiro had said over dinner, Keith settled Shiro’s nerves after his first meal with the family: _Oh yeah, she likes you._

He guessed it was more nuanced, especially after her barrage of questioning:

_Where do you live? Who do you stay with? What are your license plate numbers?_

It only took Keith’s dad laying a steady hand over hers – offering a nervous smile – to calm her.

“She gets excited, sometimes,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Keith is our only one, you know.”

Keith’s dad was much more laid back than Krolia – most of the time Shiro was over, he was either in the garage, working on his bike (which is why Krolia had to park in front of the house, Shiro learned), messing with the lawn, or cooking something outside on the grill, smoke trailing high.

His cooking was edible, if not slightly charred. Still, Krolia ate it with a smile, and Shiro watched her kiss the side of his head lovingly – an affection Keith ignored, and Shiro blushed looking at.

No matter what yardwork Keith’s dad was doing, Shiro never failed to drop his bags in a minute to greet him – them shaking hands was something Keith made fun of – and ask if he could help with anything.

Usually, Keith’s dad shooed him away, but there were a few times Keith sat in the kitchen, watching Shiro pull up weeds for half an hour before Krolia went out and scolded his dad for making a guest do work.

They could argue about chores, but when Shiro volunteered to clean the dishes, no one but Keith tried to talk him out of it.

“I think my dad likes you more than me,” Keith said, his face souring. They had been friends for about a month, and he was laying with his back on the floor, looking up at Shiro, who was on his bed. “He doesn’t shut up about you being football captain, you know.”

Shiro was skimming his English homework, completely distracted by Keith’s every movement beneath him. “Don’t say that. Your dad loves you.”

Keith rolled his eyes, grunting as he sat up. He tried touching his toes, but popped a back muscle instead. “I know that. I’m just _saying_ ,” he cracked his knuckles against the carpet anxiously. “It’s nice you get along, I guess.”

Shiro closed the paperback he had been reading. “Both of your parents love you, Keith.”

“Yeah, I _know_ that.” Keith sighed, and Shiro knew he was done talking. He felt a light shove on his arm, and Keith spoke, now standing beside him. “Get off my bed so I can take a nap.”

“But I was here first.”

“It’s my bed.”

“I’m a guest.”

Keith’s mouth twitched when he saw Shiro’s grin, but he said nothing, climbing into the bed anyway. Shiro was laying on his stomach, facing the end of the bed, and Keith pulled his pillow from under Shiro’s feet.

“Fine – there’s room here.”

It was their first mock argument, and Shiro uncomfortably finished his reading while Keith began to snore lightly. He slept for two hours – by that time, the sun was setting, and Krolia opened the door to call them to dinner, per routine.

She saw Shiro, idling on his phone in the dark while Keith was knocked out.

Krolia left without a word, but after a few moments returned with two plates, setting them on Keith’s desk.

“Don’t let him sleep too long,” was all she whispered. She was looking at his face – Shiro couldn’t help but think that if he weren’t here, she would kiss the side of his head, like she did with his father.

The thought crushed Shiro a little.

He waited another twenty minutes before waking Keith, making him sit up against his headboard so they could eat their dinners on top of his bed.

They didn’t talk much more that night, except when Shiro was leaving – Keith had insisted on walking him outside to his car tonight – and Keith reached up to give him a hug. He was on his tiptoes, socks sliding off his feet, and Shiro had to lower his head uncomfortably to let Keith speak into his ear.

“I’m sorry. Mom says I get mean when I’m tired.”

Shiro hugged him back, the best he could with a backpack over one shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize, Keith. I’m not upset.”

Pulling out of the hug, Keith sniffed, crossing his arms. He hadn’t known this was upsetting him so much. “Okay.”

It took him a minute to glance up at Shiro, shoulders still sagging, before immediately looking down – placing a light foot on top of Shiro’s shoe. “Want to get ice cream tomorrow? I heard they’re closing the stand down for the fall.”

Shiro smiled softly. “I’ll pick you up.”

That was over a month ago – now, mid-October had settled in, and Shiro couldn’t help but take the sudden cold as a personal offense.

They were walking to Shiro’s car – since practice had been cancelled, Keith subtly invited Shiro to spend the time at his house instead.

Shiro followed his wish like a _sick puppy_ – Matt’s wording.

The air outside was already chilled by the time school was out; Shiro was thankful he decided to wear a sweater today under his letterman.

Keith seemed unaffected by the temperature change, and when Shiro asked, he shrugged.

“I don’t get cold easily.”

Shiro still switched off the air conditioner in his car. “Are you okay with me picking you up for the game tomorrow?”

Keith nodded. “I was gonna ask my parents about it tonight.”

When they rolled up to Keith’s house, his dad was raking leaves in the front lawn.

“Hey, Shiro,” he called from the sidewalk. “How’s practice?”

Shiro shook his hand from his car window, ignoring Keith’s snort. “Good, sir. Getting ready for homecoming this weekend.”

“I’ve heard. Good luck, champ.” He turned his neck, gesturing at Keith. “Are you gonna go cheer him on?”

Keith’s fingers tightened around his bag, but he rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“I can pick him up before the game –” Shiro began, but Keith cut him off.

“Dad, I was gonna ask – can I spend the night at Shiro’s after the game?”

Keith’s dad dropped his rake. “Christ,” he muttered. “Uh, well Keith, I’ll have to talk with your mother about it.”

“Great,” Keith mumbled.

They went into Keith’s room to do their homework – it wasn’t until they were called out for dinner that Krolia spoke on the matter.

She was cutting something with her knife, the glint of it catching Shiro’s eye. “Keith, you can stay with Shiro after the game,” She exchanged a glance with his dad. “But don’t leave his side at any point that night.”

Keith grinned, looking over at Shiro, who suddenly felt very much in the spotlight.

He cleared his throat. “My grandfather would love to meet Keith – thanks for letting him stay over.”

Keith’s dad spoke around a mouthful of salad. “Keith, you’ll text us, right?”

“Yeah, I will.” Keith’s smile didn’t seem to completely fade as he ate the rest of his dinner, making Krolia lean back in her chair.

“I’ll get the dishes,” Keith said, and Shiro wordlessly helped him stack the plates – but he couldn’t get Krolia’s stare off the center of his back, like an open target, for the rest of the night.

\-----

Shiro had been gone hours by the time Krolia was getting ready for bed, but the idea of Keith staying overnight at Shiro’s still felt like hot coals in her stomach.

She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Honestly, I think it might be safest just to let him go.” They were in bed – she took her husband’s hand. “You know Shiro wouldn’t let anything happen to him. He’s safest with him.”

Her husband nodded. “Honey, I know.”

“Shiro is a good boy.”

“He is. Keith has good taste,” he added, laughing.

Krolia let her head hit the pillow. “Don’t joke about that – it’s bad enough as it is – with him twice Keith’s size and –”

“Yeah, and he has Keith kill bugs for him.”

Despite herself, she smiled, softening her voice. Keith was across the house, but part of her worried about the universe listening in, too. “He really likes Keith, doesn’t he?”

“I think we should leave that to the kids, sweetheart.”

Krolia didn’t reply, just turned onto her side.

If Shiro was going to do something, she hoped he would do it carefully.

\-----

“I don’t have a school spirit shirt to wear,” Keith confessed.

He was standing in a black tank top Shiro favored – the sleeves had been slashed off by his own knife – but it was too cold for it, and Shiro didn’t need the distraction tonight.

They had made a pit stop at Keith’s house before the game to pick up his overnight bag, and something to wear to Lotor’s after party.

Shiro rummaged in his bag – pulling out a white jersey. “These are our practice uniforms – you can wear mine, if you want.”

Keith fingered the _S_ of the appliquéd _SHIRO_ before tugging it on, the fabric falling to his mid-thighs. He looked short as a mushroom in the billowing shirt, and Shiro stifled a laugh.

Keith cut him a look. “Don’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Shiro bit down another grin.

Keith grabbed his keys, face red, and Shiro trailed him out the front door. “At least my mom isn’t home to see this.”

For that, Shiro was grateful.

\-----

The game was already crowded when they arrived – Lotor had texted them that he was already there – just sit on the bottom row of section C and he’d find them. 

Keith knew Shiro didn’t want to leave him waiting in the stands alone – he could tell by the nervous jump of his leg as he watched the time tick down on the scoreboard – but Keith shoved him off.

“You should probably go be a good captain.”

Shiro took the shove gracefully. “I feel bad.”

Keith tried not to roll his eyes. “Leaving me here? Isn’t this supposed to be the best night of your life?”

Both their smiles were awful – Shiro felt his face reddening. “God, I hope not.”

“Really, Lotor said he’s coming over in a couple minutes. He’s just checking on Allura.”

Shiro weighed that. “Alright.”

As Shiro ran off, Lotor came up with a visible lipstick mark on his cheek. He either didn’t mind the pink smear, or wasn’t aware of it.

Immediately, he raised an eyebrow at Keith. “Is that Shiro’s jersey?”

Keith didn’t know what to say, particularly as Shiro appeared in front of him again, out of breath. He handed him a package of candy – red Twizzlers – before smiling.

Lotor spoke. “Shiro, is this your jersey?”

“I thought it might be more fun if you had your favorite movie snack.”

Keith bit his lip. “Thanks, Shiro.”

“You two are impossible,” Lotor mumbled. It was lost between them.

Then, Iverson was blowing his whistle like a train call – directly at the stands. Shiro blushed. “I gotta go.”

Keith felt a smile naturally rise. “Good luck, Shiro.”

\-----

It was two minutes until halftime when Allura came up to Keith in the stands, her cheerleading outfit ruffling in the wind. Keith smiled as she sat beside him, stealing one of his Twizzlers.

“Did Shiro buy these for you?”

Keith nodded.

She rolled her eyes. “He loves these.”

“I do, too.”

Allura seemed to take that in for a moment, looking out onto the field. Keith followed her line of vision – Shiro was talking to Matt and Lotor on the sidelines.

Allura’s voice pulled him away from the scene. “You’re going to the dance with Shiro, right?”

Keith hadn’t decided, and guiltily scratched the nape of his neck. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I don’t think he’s enjoyed himself at a dance before,” Allura confessed, tucking a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear. “At least not with a date that didn’t ditch him halfway through.”

Keith looked affronted. “Why’d they do that?”

Allura shrugged, standing. “Shiro can be shy with people he doesn’t know very well.” Keith still looked somewhat appalled, but offered her another Twizzler, which she declined.

“I shouldn’t – I’m about to go to flips in the next routine.”

“Good luck.”

She paused – lightly touching her ponytail. “I know you two only met a couple weeks ago, but you’re important to him – you know that, right?”

Keith glanced behind her at the field – Lotor was stalking off to the stands again, his head craning. He was probably looking for Allura.

Allura sighed. “Keith –” The game buzzer sounded, and Allura’s mouth formed a tight line. “I have to get back for halftime. Shiro should come see you in a couple minutes.”

Sure enough, he watched Shiro breeze past Allura in the crowd, clanking up the metal stairs to Keith.

“You’re going to ruin your cleats,” Keith yelled, and Shiro grinned, waving it off.

“Where’d Lotor go?”

“He’s setting up a camera to film Allura’s halftime routine.” Keith snorted. “I don’t need to be looked after every minute, Shiro.”

Shiro shifted on the bench. “I know that.”

They watched Allura run off to the median of the sideline – Lotor gave her a quick kiss before she ran back into formation on the field.

The music began, and Keith blinked. “Wait – is it because my mom said I shouldn’t leave your side?”

“Keith –”

Allura and Nyma, Matt’s date, did mirrored flips on the lawn. The audience clapped over Keith’s voice. “Shiro, she shouldn’t make you worry about me. I’m not your responsibility.”

Shiro swallowed. “You are when I ask to take you somewhere.”

Keith looked exaggeratedly exasperated. “I can take care of myself!”

Allura was lifted by three other girls before flipping in air, landing gracefully into their open arms. The crowd was thunderous, and Shiro felt his eyes watering. “Keith, please don’t get mad over this – they’re just worried about you.”

“I know _they_ are – I don’t want you to be worried, too!” Keith sniffed, blinking. Silently, they both watched the routine finish before Keith pulled Shiro in for a hug. He didn’t have time to respond, or wrap his arms around Keith, before he let go again. “I’m sorry – I don’t want them to scare you off.”

Shiro’s mouth felt numb. “Keith, I’m not going anywhere.”

Keith nodded. “I know. I’m being stupid.”

Shiro picked at the hem of his jersey on Keith – it covered most of his upper legs while sitting, spilling onto the seat. “We don’t have to go to Lotor’s after this. Let’s just go to your house and watch a movie.”

Amazingly, Keith laughed. “No, Shiro, I want to hang out with your friends. They care about you a lot, too.”

Shiro’s heart felt like it was trying to crawl up his throat. “Meet you on the practice field after the game?”

“Yeah.”

Out on the grass, they were clearing off the cheerleaders to start the second half, and Shiro raised an acknowledging hand at Matt, trying to wave him over. Lotor returned, camera in hand, squinting at everyone in the stands above them. “Shiro, the team is waiting for their courageous and distracted captain.”

Shiro stood, elbowing Lotor. “Thanks, buddy.”

Lotor looked genuinely surprised as he sat down next to Keith. “Alright then.”

The second half wasn’t as long – largely due to the other team resigning themselves to defeat after Shiro scored two touchdowns within ten minutes, assisted by Matt’s friend Rolo. Even the cheerleaders got tired of doing a different cheer every time the team advanced, and Lotor went down to the concession stand to buy Allura water.

“That was nice,” Keith remarked, as she raised her water in thanks below them.

Lotor shrugged, although he was trying to hide a smile. “It’s what Shiro did for you.”

That startled Keith into silence, and he couldn’t help but feel Lotor’s smirk simmering beside him. They both sat quietly for most of the half, checking their phones idly.

After the final buzzer went off, the crowd was cheering, jumping as everyone began to rush on the field to congratulate the team. Keith split off from Lotor as he went out to meet Allura, heading towards the empty practice field.

It _was_ getting colder – even Keith could tell after fifteen minutes of waiting in Shiro’s thin jersey – and he almost started shivering before he heard footsteps behind him.

“Hey.”

“You won,” Keith said, dumbly smiling up at Shiro. They enveloped into a hug again – Keith wasn’t sure who pulled who first – and Keith buried his head into Shiro’s chest. “You’re not sweaty.”

Shiro laughed. “No – I ran off the field to get in the showers before everyone.” Even as they stepped back to start walking to the car, Shiro kept an arm around Keith’s shoulder. “So you still want to go to Lotor’s?”

Keith nodded.

Shiro’s hand brushed the skin on his upper arm as he moved – Keith cursed. He had goosebumps, and Shiro made him stop in the middle of the parking lot, pulling out a long-sleeve shirt from his bag. He tossed it at Keith.

“I _knew_ you were going to get cold.”

“You’re terrible.” Keith threw the shirt over his shoulder.

“You can put it on in the car.”

The parking lot was scattered with people filtering out of the game – it took Shiro a minute just to back out his car. Meanwhile, Keith was already busy pulling off the jersey, his skin pressed against Shiro’s seat as he tried to slip the undershirt on. It was tight, even for Keith, and he struggled to move the fabric up his bare arms.

He slouched in the seat, jeans riding low on his hipbones, before tugging his head through the shirt.

Shiro resisted to urge to help, instead trying to focus on merging onto the highway for Lotor’s house.

Once Keith managed to get redressed, Shiro let out a shaky breath. “So how far away is Lotor’s house?”

“Only a few exits down.” Shiro glanced over at him – he had already snagged the aux cord, and was trying to pick something to play. “Hey, remember to text your mom.”

Keith opened his mouth, but only sighed. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No – you’re right.”

They listened to an album Shiro wasn’t familiar with – it was very Keith – all shrieking guitars and low voices while they drove through Lotor’s gated neighborhood.

Keith’s music fit the scene they pulled up to – Shiro had to drive over the curb into a free spot on Lotor’s front lawn.

As they stepped out into freshly cut grass, Keith followed him quietly to the front door; music thudded through the walls like an irregular heartbeat. “You weren’t kidding.”

Shiro looked down at him before glancing up at the elaborate house. “Yeah, well. I should have showed you Allura’s house first.” The door was opened, and Shiro slid in, clearing a space for Keith. “We’re only allowed on the first two floors here.”

The inside foyer was full, everyone either pressed against someone else or a wall. The only relief was looking up – the ceilings stretched to whatever floor the house reached, and Keith took in a steady breath.

Shiro made sure his hand was a constant on Keith’s back, lightly pressing him forward. A couple people were slapping Shiro on the back, clapping for his performance – thankfully, Shiro didn’t seem interested in talking, and pressed towards the back of the first floor.

Quickly, they found Lotor and Allura in the kitchen.

Lotor’s arm was wrapped around Allura’s waist, pulling her into his side – Keith hadn’t seen her allow someone touch her at all, period, let alone so intimately, and he hoped he was hiding his shock.

Lotor looked infinitely more comfortable in his own home, smiling as Shiro and he exchanged a small handshake. “Let’s get the man of the hour some drinks.” He let go of Allura, and she jumped onto a kitchen counter, swinging her legs.

“Congratulations,” she said to Shiro, who received two cans from Lotor, passing one to Keith.

Lotor beckoned Keith over to the speaker settings on his open laptop, and Shiro had to tear his eyes away from how _small_ Keith looked next to Lotor.

Suddenly, Shiro realized the extent of Krolia’s concern, even over himself.

“You aced your routine.” Shiro forced himself to say to Allura, partly shouting as Lotor and Keith began fiddling with the volume level, shuffling through songs together.

She shrugged, draining her cup. She handed Shiro one to fill up, which he did. “It wasn’t that hard – we had been practicing since you and Keith started seeing each other.”

“Allura –”

“I’m joking.”

The antagonism between his friends went on for a couple hours – Shiro lost track of his carefully calculated drink limit, along with Keith’s – and they ended up in a corner of Lotor’s living room, all of them swaying gently.

Matt’s arms were around the small of Nyma’s back, both of them leaning in to speak into each other’s ears.

Selfishly, Shiro almost wished he could would wrap his arms around Keith like that, all-encompassing. Anchoring.

Keith seemed to notice them too – he yanked at Shiro’s shirt with his small fists. “Hey, I thought you were my date.”

Shiro’s stomach tightened into the size of a fruit pit. “What?”

“That’s what everyone’s been saying.”

Shiro swallowed, lifting Keith’s cup from his hands. He watched Shiro do it, not commenting. “Alright, no more drinks.”

Keith pulled on the front of Shiro’s shirt again, harder, forcing him to lower his neck. His breath was hot in his ear. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Shiro’s mind blanked for a moment, until he realized.

It was all flirt.

Shiro almost didn’t recognize it on Keith – he could tell he wasn’t genuinely angry, but his eyes were lowered, his head tilted perfectly, and he was waiting for Shiro’s to meet gaze.

_Don’t panic._

“You should eat something.”

Keith looked like he was working on a very clever remark when Hunk appeared at his shoulder.

“We’re going to Waffle House, if you guys want to join.”

Shiro almost fainted in relief. “That sounds perfect.”

Hunk looked Keith up and down. “Maybe you should help him to the car.”

So Shiro wrapped an arm around his shoulders, following Hunk, and herding him to the front door. “C’mon, Keith – we’re leaving.”

Keith’s hand circled around his lower arm, almost pushing to down his back. “But I’m not _tired_.”

“We’re going to get waffles.”

With his free arm, Keith beat a weak arm against his chest. “I want ice cream.”

“Keith, it’s too cold for that.”

“You’re not my _mom_.”

Ahead of them, Hunk snorted. Shiro cast him the heaviest look he could, making Hunk face forward in the crowd until they hit the front door.

Checking his phone, Hunk opened the door after a minute. “They’re pulled around out front.”

As they piled into the backseat, Shiro couldn’t but feel he was forgetting something – but it easily slipped his mind as he realized the car was already full, with Matt’s little sister in the backseat.

“Katie,” Shiro managed, wresting to close the door around Keith’s limbs. They took off once the door closed, making Shiro hit the headrest with a thud. “What are you doing here?”

A voice from up front spoke. “Ew, don’t call her Katie.”

Katie kicked the back of the seat. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Her legal name is Pidge!”

She sighed. “I’m friends with them.” Katie pointed at the front of the car, where Hunk was in the passenger seat, and, shockingly, Keith’s replacement on the team was driving.

Shiro’s mind lagged as Keith refused to buckle up, instead trying to burrow into Shiro’s side. “Oh, hey, uh.”

“It’s Lance.”

Shiro nodded, pushing his bangs out of his face. Keith watched him before patting them down on top of his head, making Shiro swat him away. “Yeah, sorry. And thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Matt said you might need some help.”

Katie snorted at that.

“Shiro, where are we going,” Keith groaned as they hit a pothole. “I’m tired.”

“You just said you _weren’t_ tired.”

Keith either didn’t hear him or know what to say, but he moaned in reply as Lance turned into the bumpy parking lot.

“Uh, Shiro, I know this is favor and all, but don’t let him puke in my mom’s car.”

Shiro nodded, reaching over to open the door, ushering Keith out. “He’s fine – he just needs food.”

Shiro saw Hunk grab Lance’s arm, and swore he heard him say _They’re both drunk_ , but he couldn’t be sure, not with Keith hanging onto him like a barrel monkey, barely able to keep either of them upright.

Katie opened the door for them. “Get a corner booth, Lance.”

They weren’t seated for five minutes before Keith had fallen asleep on Shiro’s shoulder in the booth – Katie covered her laugh as an audible snore came from his mouth.

Hunk and Katie were sharing a strawberry float across from each other, Lance was sipping his Coke while checking his phone, and Keith curled closer into Shiro, shivering slightly.

His face was pink – Shiro resisted the urge to brush his fingers over his cheeks.

Instead, Shiro reached over to give Keith his jacket, draping it over him. He clutched at it gratefully, mumbling something Shiro couldn’t hear.

“Guys, I need to take Keith home.”

Katie motioned at the plate in front of him, slurping from her straw. “You should eat your waffles first.”

Shiro shook his head, about to argue, before Hunk cleared his throat. Thankfully, he motioned the waitress over. “Can we get these to go?”

He blacked out until they were back in Lance’s car, Keith heavy in his lap.

“Shiro, dude. We need to know where your house is.”

Shiro mumbled off the address he’d known since childhood, and he dazedly watched Lance punch it into his phone.

“Okay. Matt said Keith was going to spend the night with you?”

Shiro nodded. He knew that.

“Thank god,” Hunk muttered.

Keith’s phone was loosely tucked into his jeans, about to fall out, so Shiro carefully took it out of his pocket. Krolia had been texting him – fumbling, he opened up the messages. The last time Keith had sent something was after the game.

_10:34 p.m. [sent] Tell Shiro congratulations._  
_10:35 p.m. [sent] Are you still with Shiro?_  
_11:12 p.m. [sent] Text me when you get to Shiro’s. Love you._  
_12:54 a.m. [sent] Charge your phone tonight._  
_1:39 a.m. [sent] I’m going to bed. Please text me when you see this. I love you._

Shiro looked down at Keith still snoring against his chest, torso half on top of him. His breath was coming out smoothly, completely opposite of Shiro’s rabbit heartbeat.

In the end, he figured it would be better to ask for Keith’s forgiveness than his mother’s; easier to explain he was trying to look out of him. So Shiro opened the keyboard, typing out all he could manage as Lance pulled down his street:

_I’m safe and I love you too. Goodnight_

It wasn’t his best work, but Shiro exhaled, pocketing the phone in his own jeans for safekeeping.

They were stopped in front of Shiro’s house, and Lance turned around. “Do you need help, or –”

“No, but thanks,” Shiro fumbled with the door, trying his best to scoot Keith out. He stirred restlessly, latching onto Shiro’s neck. “Sorry again.”

“Don’t mention it.”

It took Shiro longer than normal to open the door – he could see Lance’s headlights reflected against the door, and knew they were waiting for him to get inside. Keith was coming to, or at least trying to, mumbling something into Shiro’s ear.

Shiro finally opened the door, almost dropping the key as he felt Keith’s lips against his earlobe. “Are we home yet?”

“Shhhh,” Shiro’s sense of urgency kicked in – he had to get Keith upstairs to his room. He grabbed his hand, pulling him up the first few steps. He tried explaining. “My grandfather’s asleep.”

Keith nodded, wobbling up the steps, but his eyebrows were furrowed. “Why haven’t you had me over before?”

Shiro didn’t answer. The truth was, even if he wasn’t a little drunk, he wouldn’t know why. Being drunk just gave him an excuse for silence.

Thankfully, Keith wasn’t in the position to be asking too many questions, and they walked down the second floor’s hall to Shiro’s bedroom without further interrogation. Knowing Keith would be coming over, he tried to clean up a bit, but most of his clothes still laid in helpless piles on the ground, along with his homework.

Keith digested none of this, instead commenting, “I’m sleepy.”

“This is my room,” Shiro walked him to his mattress, watching him flop onto it. “You can use my bed – I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs.”

“No,” Keith grabbed at Shiro’s arm, his nails trailing against his skin. He was certain there’d be short scratches there tomorrow, but for now all that concerned him were Keith’s pleas. “Don’t leave me.”

Shiro tried shaking him off lightly. “Keith.”

“Please.” He kicked out his feet in a weak tantrum.

The last thing Shiro remembered was being dragged down, and hitting his pillow face-first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i grew up in texas so homecoming was a super big thing but i heard its... not so much everywhere else so i tried to downplay it
> 
> but really, my senior mum went from my neck all the way to my feet (i'm 5'6")


	3. Homecoming (pt. 2)

Shiro woke up to a buzz, and yellow sunlight streaming hotly through his bedroom window. He fumbled to dig his phone out of the covers, bumping into something that moaned.

_Keith._

Deciding he needed to deal with one crisis at a time, he numbly unlocked his phone, checking his recent messages. There were several from Lance and Matt, who were both in a newly made groupchat with him. They had been bantering for a while in it about Shiro’s condition before signing off at 4 a.m.

There were two from Allura, which read: _Are you locked in the guest bedroom?_ followed quickly by _I suppose not._ The others were exclusively from Lotor:

_9:08 a.m. [sent] Good morning. Your car is on my lawn._  
_9:10 a.m. [sent] It’s in the white rose bushes._  
_9:14 a.m. [sent] Sigh._  
_9:14 a.m. [sent] Can you get it by noon?_

He had called a minute later, which was probably responsible for waking him.

Shiro must have been drunker than he remembered – _especially_ if he somehow got home without his car.

Rubbing his eyes, Shiro rolled onto his back to see Keith beside him, tangled in the sheets into a neat curl, like a seashell.

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice was rough. “My car is still at Lotor’s.”

His only reply was a faint groan.

Shiro wished he had some water. “I gotta call him.”

Keith finally moved, his calf brushing against Shiro’s under the covers. He mumbled something unintelligible before burying his head between Shiro’s shoulder and a pillow.

He pulled up Lotor’s number, pressing the phone to his ear. It only rang twice before he picked up.

“Hello. Your car is not a home-association approved yard fixture.”

Despite his level tone, Shiro could tell Lotor hadn’t slept well last night. Part of him wondered if he and Allura were cleaning up alone, and he almost felt bad. “I’ll get it. Give me a couple hours to shower and eat something.”

“You had better. Allura is still asleep, and Matt just woke up. I’m going to have to invite his sister’s friends to tonight’s party just to get help cleaning up this morning.”

Shiro almost smacked himself as he remembered. “Lance gave me a ride home last night.”

Lotor grunted. “Well, you can thank him tonight. If you’re still coming.”

“We’ll be there.”

There was a pause. “Was Keith any good?”

“Shut up.”

“Come get your car. I’ll send Matt over to pick you up in an hour.”

“Two hours.”

“Of course.”

He hung up. Shiro could hear Matt starting to say something about coffee in the background before it cut off, and Shiro felt his head split.

“Shit,” Shiro mumbled. “My car is at Lotor’s.”

“You said that,” Keith’s mouth was pressed into the pillow, muffling his voice.

Shiro itched his stomach, slowly sitting up. The bed dipped, making Keith lift his head, dried drool on his cheek. Shiro’s chest constricted, a wave of nausea rushing over him as he realized Keith only had his boxers on – until he looked down, and realized he was matching.

Weakly, Shiro spoke. “Your bag is in the trunk.”

“Oh fuck,” Keith said, realizing. He pulled the covers over his head. He sounded ready to fall back asleep, voice thick. “Clothes.”

“Clothes,” Shiro agreed.

They were both silent – Shiro gathering his bearings to stand, looking over their discarded clothes strewn over his floor.

Keith stayed in his bed, toes dug into the sheets.

At what point they undressed he wasn’t certain – it had to have been from the bed, with how close the clothes lay – but he doubted even drunk Shiro would allow something to happen with Keith.

Still, he had to ask. “Keith, are you alright?”

With faint pop, Keith stretched his arms out, rolling his head over to a cooler side of the mattress. His low groan made goosebumps rise on Shiro’s arm.

Hungover.

Shiro decided to find something for both of them to wear in his closet, turning away from his bed.

The last thing he needed was more of Keith’s skin on display.

It was true his grandfather hadn’t met Keith yet, and with Keith experiencing his first hangover, the timing wasn’t ideal.

Shiro could hear his grandfather listening to the TV downstairs – the weather channel was busy listing off cooler temperatures for the day, and Shiro managed to make the executive decision of digging out a sweater for himself, and one of his older sweatshirts for Keith.

It was from middle school. It would probably fit Keith like a glove.

He tossed it at the foot of the bed along with Keith’s jeans from last night. They were a little wrinkled, but he doubted it would matter much.

Keeping a hand on wall, he paced to the bathroom; Shiro turned the shower water as hot as it would go – steaming the room up, fogging the mirror. He tried to avoid his reflection as he brushed his teeth, deciding he would put off shaving until later tonight, before the dance.

The shower pressure felt great against his shoulders – almost all the tension had sunk out of him until he heard a gentle knock at the door.

It was Keith’s voice, in a hushed whisper. “Shiro?”

He stuck his head out of the curtain, hair dripping onto the floor. “I’m in the shower.”

There was a pause. Then, “I need in.”

He didn’t know how to stress the idea that he was naked and wet behind a curtain to a hungover Keith. “Okay, but I’m in the shower.”

Unlocking the door, he quickly pulled back the plastic. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly, and Shiro could see Keith’s silhouette from the other side of the opaque curtain.

He was still in just his boxers, and Shiro turned to face the tiled wall. He heard the toilet lid lift, and forced himself to zone out, only coming back when he felt the water grow unbearably hot.

Hissing, Shiro quickly lowered the temperature, and Keith stopped in front of the sink.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t sound grouchy anymore, only disoriented.

“It’s okay. I tossed your jeans over my desk, and laid a sweatshirt out for you, if you want it.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Shiro.”

“No problem.”

\-----

Keith went back into Shiro’s room to dress, squinting into the light. He was half-tempted to lower the blinds, but didn’t want to touch anything in Shiro’s room yet.

He gave a first real look around, stifling a laugh at Shiro’s worn out planet posters, and cracked glow-in-the-dark stars glued on the ceiling.

It was like he stepped into a piece of Shiro’s heart.

Pulling his jeans on, he almost tripped as he tried balancing on one leg, having to reach out and grab the bed at the last second.

The top Shiro had laid out was a sweatshirt with a lion cub on it – the words were mostly faded, but he could tell it was from one of Shiro’s younger grades. He would have been more begrudging to wear it if it weren’t his only option, and if Shiro’s scent wasn’t soothing his headache.

The door opened a moment later, Shiro stepping in cautiously, already dressed. He looked just like he did picking up Keith after football practice – fresh, but tired. He toweled off his hair, shaking it a few times before draping the towel over a bedpost. “Do you want to shower?”

Keith shook his head, finding Shiro’s short movements more captivating than they probably were. “Can I have a washcloth for my face?”

“Yes, of course.” Shiro tossed him one from a drawer.

“Thanks.” Keith turned to use the bathroom, hand on the door. “And, uh. Thanks for the sweatshirt.”

It almost seemed like Shiro deliberately looked away – choosing to dig in a drawer for some socks instead of looking at him. “No problem. You can keep it if you like – it doesn’t– I don’t wear it anymore.”

Keith fingered the edges – it was well-worn – before sticking his hands in the front pockets.

“Okay. It’s comfy – thanks.” He couldn’t help but loiter, especially watching Shiro struggle to get ready. “Have you seen my phone? I should probably text my mom.”

Stooping, Shiro patted down his pair of discarded jeans, fishing it out of a back pocket. “Here. I knew I had taken something of yours.”

Keith took it - the battery was almost dead, but he didn’t need it for much. Once he closed the door in the bathroom, he pressed call on his mother’s contact page.

“Hello? Keith?”

“Hey, mom.”

He heard her sigh, probably closing her eyes. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine. I’m at Shiro’s right now.”

“You didn’t text me back until two.”

Keith didn’t recall that, but at the same time, it didn’t surprise him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just come home soon.”

Keith started heating up the water, wetting the hand-towel. “I think we’re going to eat, and then I’ll be home.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

\-----

It ended up that Shiro’s grandfather was headed out the door as they came down the stairs, fishing gear hung on his back. He was barely as tall as Keith, and they shook hands shyly.

“Shiro tells me you’re a very smart young man.”

“Uh, thank you, sir.”

His grandfather nodded, mostly to himself. “Be safe tonight, and you,” he pointed up at Shiro, “Start coming home at a decent hour.”

Shiro smiled. “Will do. Love you.”

Once he was gone, they ventured into the kitchen – Shiro opened the fridge, lazily running his hands up the doors. He turned around to see Keith still in the doorway. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“What do you usually make?”

Shiro snorted. “My grandpa doesn’t allow me in the kitchen when he’s cooking. Well, only when he can’t reach the plates,” he amended. He crossed the room, grabbing two bowls from a cabinet. “We have three different types of cereal, if that’s any consolation.”

Keith shook his head, but walked over to claim a bowl. “I can’t believe you.”

They both ended up on Shiro’s couch, legs tucked up on the cushions, while watching cartoon reruns. Matt was supposed to be over in a couple minutes, and Keith looked ready to fall back asleep, right into his milk.

It wasn’t until Shiro disappeared upstairs to slip on his glasses that Keith jolted awake on the sofa.

“You have _glasses_?”

Shiro scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. I usually wear contacts.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I have to take them off for football.” Shiro felt his face starting to blush.

“I like them.”

Shiro committed Keith’s softened voice into his memories like a stamp. His voice came out strangled. “Thank you.”

He wanted to give Matt his entire wallet for blasting his car horn a second after that, saving Shiro the humiliation of looking at Keith with an entirely flushed face.

\-----

Lotor wasn’t mad, of course – when they arrived, Lance was pulling steamers out of the front bushes, chatting with him. Krolia wasn’t mad, either – she met them outside, hugging Keith in the doorway.

Keith’s text came the minute Shiro was back in his bed, desperate to take a nap: _See you in a couple hours._

Despite himself, Shiro had to fight down butterflies.

It really wasn’t a couple hours – it was eight – enough time for Shiro to shave, made sure his clothes were unwrinkled, and arrive at Keith’s with half an hour to spare.

He was sitting with Krolia and Keith’s dad in the living room, waiting for Keith to finish getting ready – Krolia hadn’t commented on his attire, other than a simple, “You look nice.”

Keith’s dad offered to redo his tie, which he accepted, mostly to pass the time, but everyone fell silent as Keith’s door opened, Shiro involuntarily standing.

He took in a breath as Keith stepped out of the hall – he could have sworn Keith’s parents exchanged a glance behind him – but he didn’t care, only stepped forward to greet him.

Stupidly, he blinked, trying to calm himself.

Keith’s hair was slicked back, curled neatly at his neck, and tucked behind his ears. You could see all of his face and neck for once – the sight was blinding. His jacket was already on, black, just like Shiro’s.

And his bowtie was red.

Shiro’s hands itched to unravel it, to see Keith’s sharp clavicle underneath, like when he wore that black tank top. His shoulders were framed like wings – the suit made Shiro want to say something dumb.

“You look so good,” was what came out of Shiro’s mouth, so soft he felt his voice dip. Keith smiled up at him, punching his chest lightly.

“So do you.”

Keith’s hands pressed lightly on the tie, enough pressure that Shiro felt it burn through the fabric onto his skin, and adjusted the knot.

He could hardly hear his parents behind him, hugging him, begging him to take a photo at the dance. Keith shook them off, bearing minimal damage from their affection.

“Okay, okay. I gotta get my phone before we’re late.”

Keith went back into his room, and in an instant, Krolia’s hand was fit into the crook of Shiro’s arm, making him stand still. “Shiro,” her hand was shaking. “Please keep him safe. He trusts you.”

Keith’s dad came behind him to clamp onto his shoulder. “You know Keith has a temper – look out for him.”

Krolia’s gaze was down the hall, not at Shiro. “And if there’s drinking –”

Shiro tried to say his piece quickly. “I’m not – I don’t. I want to keep an eye on Keith.” Shiro had made that resolution after his nap, his pillow still smelling like Keith’s hair.

She nodded tightly. “Good.”

As Keith came back out, his dad smiled wide enough teeth poked through, and he hooked both of them into a hug.

“You kids have fun.”

\-----

The dance itself wasn’t remarkable – they stayed long enough for Lotor and Allura to get crowned, for Matt to request his favorite remix, and for Shiro to beg Keith to take a professional photo.

“Your mom will want one.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I’m not taking one alone. That’s pathetic.”

“I’ll go after you.”

Keith crossed his arms. “No.”

Shiro glanced towards the front doors – their friends were waiting for them all to leave together for Allura’s house, and Matt was grandly gesturing towards his watch. Shiro turned back to Keith, who was still frowning, and felt his mouth betray his mind.

“I’ll take the photos with you.”

Keith weighed it for half a moment. “Okay.”

Thankfully, they were the only ones wanting photographs this late in the night. The photographer had no expression as he turned his camera back on, waiting for Shiro and Keith to pose.

“Uh –” Shiro awkwardly circled Keith, trying to get behind him. “I don’t really know where to stand.”

Keith took half a step back, colliding into Shiro’s torso. Shiro put his hands on his waist to keep them from tripping into the backdrop, and the photographer held up an arm. “You two stay like that.”

Shiro could feel Keith’s stomach tensing.

The snaps went off in three rapid successions, and thankfully, Shiro remembered to smile about halfway through.

Keith walked carefully to the door, blinking the flashes out of his vision. “Thanks.”

Shiro was certain those photos were going to haunt him. “No problem.”

As they reached the group, Matt’s arms circled both of their shoulders, pushing them together. “Now that you two documented your lovely evening, let’s go.”

\-----

Allura’s house, as far as Keith was concerned, was practically identical in size to Lotor’s. Shiro claimed it was bigger, but after two floors, Keith stopped counting.

The patrons of this party were more wild than they anticipated – even Allura stuck to a corner of her own house for most of the night, their friend circle in a tight ring.

Repeatedly, Keith had to be pushed into the circle to make room – usually with Shiro’s hands resting on his shoulders – and he couldn’t help but feel excluded from their ranks as they laughed about past parties, old jokes.

Also, he may have been making up for his silence with drinking a little too much, knowing Shiro wasn’t going to drink tonight.

Keith blindly refocused on the conversation, where Allura was twisted in Lotor’s arms, his head lowered to her shoulder. They were all laughing.

Allura gave a fake shiver, smiling. “I’ll never get used to your tongue ring, darling.”

Keith looked puzzled, until Lotor stuck his tongue half out for him.

He closed his mouth, nodding over to Shiro. “I got it the same day Shiro got his septum piercing.”

Keith frowned, turning around. “I’ve never seen you wear it.”

Shiro laughed, looking to the side. “Yeah, well, I had to take it out for practice, and I got too scared to put it back in, so it closed.”

“He’s a real scaredy-cat,” Matt whispered, and Shiro shook his head.

“Don’t listen to her.”

But the nagging feeling these people knew Shiro on a level he didn’t; that he probably cared for them more – that clenched Keith’s stomach.

Suddenly, he bent over, dry heaving.

“Fuck!”

“Shiro, get him to the bathroom –”

Keith felt Shiro’s arms wrap around his torso, hauling him up.

Pathetically, Keith knew it was the closest he’d get to having Shiro hold him.

\-----

Shiro closed the bathroom door, resting his head against the door. He was getting a headache; the clink of porcelain alerted him to Keith, who had hung his head in the toilet.

Kneeling on the rug, Shiro rubbed his back. “Are you okay?”

Keith shook his head. “No. I want to go home.”

“Okay,” Shiro grabbed his waist again, trying to pull him back from the toilet, but he reached out for the base. Without thinking, Shiro combed back Keith’s hair between his fingers, gathering it behind his neck. “Do you feel sick?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he hissed, before moaning. “Sorry. I was just thinking–” He paused, as if the thought were poison. “Did you and Lotor ever date?”

“No, Keith.”

He paused for a second. “Matt?”

“No.”

“Allura?”

Shiro snorted, tucking Keith’s hair back again. His voice almost broke. “When we were eleven.”

Keith groaned, spitting into the toilet. “God, I’m so stupid.”

Shiro rubbed his back with his free hand. “No, you’re not. You’re just drunk.”

“Only because you’re here.”

Keith fumbled for a second, spine twisting, until he managed to pull his arm from between his legs, and groped blindly for Shiro’s arm, sliding his hand down until he reached his wrist, clawing his way into his palm before spreading his fingers.

Shiro froze.

“I’m scared.”

Shiro squeezed Keith’s hand. “I’m here.”

There was the sound of a loose door tumbler – Nyma appeared in the door, and Shiro cursed himself for forgetting to lock it.

“Whoa,” was all she said.

Shiro did damage control. “He’s fine – can you leave us alone?”

“Yeah, sure,” She paused to turn, but spoke before closing the door. “I thought they were just rumors.”

Shiro didn’t anger easily, but he felt his impatience growing. “What?”

“I didn’t think you were actually dating the team dropout.”

Shiro saw white as Keith mumbled, “What is she talking about?”

“Nothing,” Shiro eased him from the rim, careful of his chin. “Let’s get you home.”

\-----

Keith fell asleep the second the car started – something about it seemed to lull him to sleep, and Shiro made sure to prop his head up whenever they turned a corner.

Keith had held his hand.

The feeling of their linked fingers lingered as Shiro gripped the steering wheel; he scrunched his hands a few times, but they wouldn’t stop tingling.

“Keith, wake up. We’re home. Your home,” Shiro corrected.

He was only half-awake. “Can you stay over?”

“No, Keith.”

He didn’t respond after that, but allowed Shiro to pull him out of the car, propping him up.

Shiro walked him to the door, rapping softly on the wood. After a couple minutes, no one came, by, and he reached under the mat for the spare key Krolia had told him about.

Staring into the darkness, he knew Keith wasn’t going to make it down the hall alone. Shiro picked him up, cradling his head in the crook of his arm.

“Keith?” Krolia’s sleepy voice emerged behind him, and Shiro turned slowly to face her.

She took in the sight – Shiro’s tie undone, his shirt askew, and Keith clinging to his collar while sleeping.

She swallowed. “Let me help.”

She opened Keith’s door for him, pulling back the covers on his bed for Shiro to set him down. He noticed his hoodie bunched up beside his pillow, and Krolia followed his gaze, sighing. Keith was sleeping deep, not waking up during the transition.

“Thank you, Shiro.”

She insisted on walking him to his car – it was only when they were outside did he realize she was in pajamas, and how young it made her look.

Her slippers scuffed against the street’s concrete. “I’m happy you and Keith found each other.”

Shiro exhaled. “He’s the best person I’ve ever met.”

Krolia looked like she wanted to say something, but decided it was too much. She shook her head. “Do you need gas money?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you, though.”

He sat down in his car, but Krolia came around to his side, arm resting on the door. Keeping it open. “You’re very special to Keith. I hope you know that.”

Shiro swallowed, sudden heat streaking his face. “Keith is very special to me.”

His phone lit up in his lap with a message.

It was from Allura. He flipped his phone back over, and Krolia put her hand firmly on his shoulder. “Thank you, Shiro. I’m serious”

Another buzz. He turned his phone halfway up to see Matt’s name. Before he could turn his phone on silent, Lotor’s name joined their ranks. _Is everything alright with Keith?_

“You have a lot of friends.”

Shiro felt the tears wet on his cheek, drying quickly on his face. “They’re Keith’s friends, too.”

He watched Krolia frown, mouth parted. “Shiro, Keith only ever speaks about you.”

He shook his head again, as if he could will the fact away. “I care about him so much.”

“I know.” She looked at the house over his car, biting her lip. “Maybe you should tell him that.”

Shiro bit back a sob. He didn’t want to be crying in front of Keith’s mother – especially not _about_ Keith. But she didn’t seem upset. “I’m scared – I don’t want to lose him.”

Krolia smiled, so differently from the first timid attempt she had tried weeks ago. “Shiro, if you’re looking for a blessing, or a sign from one of us,” She swallowed, and he could see a glimmer reflected in her eyes. “You got it the minute Keith trusted you.”

Shiro’s hands fell hopelessly in his lap. “I know you all are so close – I don’t want to intrude in your family.”

“We’d be happy to have you, Shiro. Keith’s never –” She collected herself, hand pushing back her hair. “Keith’s never been this happy before.”

The autumn crickets filled the silence for a moment – both of them shivering in the breeze, before Shiro let her coerce him out of the car, giving him a gentle hug. He sniffed, and she pat his back. “I know you might not feel ready, but we care about you, Shiro. You can always talk to us.”

He nodded – not trusting himself to speak – sinking back down into his car. He waited until Krolia waved from inside the house to drive off; she had looked like thin ghost.

Heading home without bothering to put on Keith’s playlist, he didn’t notice the silence – he was too busy thinking, wiping away tears with the back of his sleeve.

If he was going to do something, it had to be soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obviously i have to write the rest of this before my curse can be lifted so see you again soon

**Author's Note:**

> also i had to make this for obvious reasons:  
> 
> 
> edit: [go look at jaja's art it's perfect](http://jaja-han.tumblr.com/post/171902650345/paladinlion-s-fic-come-around-here-is-so)
> 
> tumblr: paladinlion


End file.
